


pick me up

by tarantism



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 09:02:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarantism/pseuds/tarantism
Summary: in which seokmin visits a coffee shop, and receives a drink he definitely didn't order





	pick me up

When the coffee mug lands in front of him on the wooden table with a slight thud, Seokmin is surprised, to say the least. 

Glancing up, he trails his gaze along the arm that placed the cup before him, their hand withdrawing from the handle shortly after. The boy before him is tall and thin, and definitely not someone he knows (he thinks). He gives the café a quick once over as well—it’s definitely not busy enough that there’s nowhere else to sit either. Seokmin runs a hand through his brown hair, easing slightly when the boy delivers him a small smile as their eyes met; lips pulled tight across his face with wispy, silvery hair parted in the middle, the boy steps back and fumbles with the apron tied around his small waist. _Ah_ , he’s one of the baristas, Seokmin confirms, only to frown in confusion. That doesn’t make the whole drink thing any less strange.

“I didn’t order this.” He points at the cup because although he has been slumped, cold in his seat in the café for at least forty minutes, he has still yet to go up and order anything. In all honesty, he was just waiting for someone to come over and tell him to leave—just to make this week even worse than it already had been.

“I know,” the barista nods, huffing a little as he continuously fiddles with the knot he’s tying. “I was told to bring it to you. Don’t worry; you don’t have to pay for it. It’s on the house.”

Before Seokmin can blink twice, eyebrows furrow and mouth open to ask who insisted he had this drink, the barista is already quickly weaving his way around the tables to make his way back behind the counter. He holds back from yelling across the serene setting, sinking further into his seat. This day couldn’t get any weirder, either.

Licking his lips, the brunette lets out a sigh with a shake of his head, shoulders drooping. This had not been my week, he thinks, twisting his body so he’s finally sat properly at the table, mysterious hot drink perched in front of him. The steam rises, dancing in the air before him in a slow waltz, filling his thoughts with warmth and winter instead of a certain someone that had broken his heart.

He hadn’t noticed it at first when the drink had been placed on the table, but as Seokmin leans over the drink, taking the hot mug in his hands, he sees it: a smiley face of chocolate powder decorating a swirl of whipped cream. It’s the smallest thing, but Seokmin can’t help feel his face loosen into more of a small smile as he watches the chocolate melt under the heat of the drink. His heart clenches when he blinks a few times to see if he’s imagining things, but the dusting remains, grinning at him from atop the beverage; it fills him with the same heat he’s sure he’ll get from actually drinking whatever the drink is. 

Seokmin slowly brings the porcelain cup up to his lips, hesitating when he realises he doesn’t know who had actually ordered the drink for him. He holds it stationary, only a few centimetres from his face, scanning the other customers quickly for any sign that they were the mystery beverage buyer. There are only a few customers dotted around the nicely decorated shop, some in groups like the three boys bickering by the door, some sat alone reading books like the boy with glasses by the counter.

The glow from the Christmas lights hanging above him on the window makes it easy to get a good look at the surroundings, but no one seems to be glancing his way. It’s like he’s invisible, and therefore he doesn’t quite understand where the drink has come from. Until he happens to look towards where the previous barista had disappeared.

Stood behind the counter, coffee machine to his right, till in front of him with no line to be seen, Seokmin spots the tall boy with black hair, dressed in an identical brown apron that has many more stains on it than his co-worker’s. He’s stealing small glances at Seokmin in between checking the till screen and talking with his colleagues, and the brunette knows it’s him that had sent him the drink.

He can smell it now: the faint aroma of chocolate, not just from the decoration, but also from the oozing, rich liquid under the cream and it makes his mouth water. Seokmin raises his eyebrows, looking directly back at the barista as if to ask, “Did you make this?” He gets a wide smile and a nod in return and Seokmin knows then he has to take a tip—not that it’s much of a chore, he’s dying to drink the beverage. He doesn’t even question that he doesn’t know the barista, as the hot chocolate fills his mouth, scolding his tongue but igniting his senses in a spiced, chocolaty wonderland.

Hums of delight escape his mouth as he swallows, almost forgetting he’d come here not to indulge himself in the happiness hot drinks bring, but instead to sit quietly and contemplate where exactly he and Soonyoung had gone wrong. 

The barista is still smiling at him as he puts the mug back on the table, chocolate smiley face now looking more like a burst car tyre than anything else. Seokmin licks his lips for any cream and gives a nod, smiling to give a good verdict. Apparently, that’s all the boy needs before he nods in return and goes back to working the coffee machine. The brunette thinks it’s strange, but he can’t find it in his heart not to be appreciative of such a small, thoughtful gesture.

It takes him very little time to finish the drink before him, declaring it to be the best damn hot chocolate he’s ever had, and he gets up to order another one. The silver-haired boy from before is on the till, his name badge reads “Minghao” and he quickly jots down the order on the side of a cup as Seokmin asks him for whatever type of hot chocolate it was that he just had.

“Mingyu’s special recipe.” Minghao chuckles, pulling up the total so the brunette can pay. “That’s a popular one today. What’s the name?” 

“It’s delicious. And it’s Seokmin.” Seokmin taps his card to the machine and stuffs his wallet back in his pocket, trying to commit to memory the name of the boy who created such an artisanal masterpiece for his taste buds. 

“Don’t tell that to his face, he’s big-headed enough as it is.” Seokmin can tell he’s joking in a friendly way, so he nods and thanks him, moving back to his seat to wait for the drink, tapping the table anxiously.

He’s on his phone when the new mug lands in front of him on the wooden table with a slight thud, startling Seokmin to say the least. He hates himself for being surprised by the same action twice in such a short amount of time, but he lets the thought go as he looks to his side.

Glancing up, he trails his gaze along the arm that delivered his order to him, thicker, stumpier fingers than before retracting from the porcelain. The boy before him is tall and broad, and definitely not Minghao. He wears a toothy grin on his face, framed by lightly styled pitch-black hair. 

“One hot chocolate for Seokmin, as requested this time.” The brunette has to read his nametag to jog his memory of what Minghao had called the boy.

Mingyu slides into the seat opposite him, his own to-go cup in his other hand, taking a sip with a satisfied sigh. He’s not wearing his apron, and the brunette assumes he’s on his break; otherwise, he definitely wouldn’t be taking a seat with him.

“Why the hot chocolate?” Seokmin clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as warmth there starts to prickle at his skin. He picks up the mug to hide his embarrassed smile.

Shuffling, the taller boy places his drink on the table and folds his arms loosely, leaning forward. Mingyu tilts his head to the side and Seokmin feels like he’s being read inside out. “I saw you by the window and you looked like you needed a little pick-me-up.”

Seokmin feels the warmth of the drink (just as good as the first, might he add and he appreciates that consistency) on his palms and in his stomach, but he pauses, just sitting there as Mingyu speaks. “What… makes you say that?” 

“You always used to come in with someone but today you came in alone, and for the first time in a little while.”

“You noticed.” Is all he can say, tapping the side of the cup, staring into the swirling mix of cream and chocolate. “I, uh, went through a break up three weeks ago—just out of the blue he goes and breaks my heart. This used to be our place and I needed a break, y’know? Before I tried to come back here and clear my head. Try and fix my heart and all that…”

Seokmin doesn’t know why he’s talking about his life to someone he doesn’t know past their name and their skill for making fantastic hot chocolates, but he likes having someone listen to him that isn’t the group of friends he shares with Soonyoung.

“You know, my mom always said hot chocolate is the cure-all.” Mingyu nods, catching Seokmin’s attention once more from where he was losing himself in his drink. “When you’re sick, when you’re tired, when you’re blue—and it’s especially effective in beginning to mend a broken heart.”

A small chuckle rises from the warmth of his stomach, travelling up his body until he manages to smile. It’s the nicest sentiment he’s heard in a while, and he can tell the boy genuinely believes it from the faint twinkle in his eye from the glow of the lights above them.

“I can actually believe that.”

Mingyu’s lips pull his face into a radiant smile, white teeth showing as he himself laughs in return, a giggle just as sweet as the drinks he makes, and Seokmin can’t help but feel better in his presence.

“You see, with every hot chocolate I make, I add a special ingredient for people just like you.” Seokmin raises a brow, curious. “Love." 

His cheeks turn rosy with the sudden rush of blood to his head and Seokmin splutters as he sips his drink, causing Mingyu to laugh even harder. His embarrassment is worth it if he sees the boy smile that radiantly. He tries to drink more of his drink as he thanks the boy and Mingyu begins to talk about how much he loves making people drinks that make people feel good. 

And he’s right, he does make people feel good—and not just with the hot chocolate he so graciously gifted to Seokmin, but with the way he’s lit up the brunette’s mood in the space of an hour. Suddenly Seokmin doesn't feel cold or heartbroken at all.

**Author's Note:**

> this is very much just a tiny drabble-ish piece of writing that has been rotting in my folder for about a year (lmao my writing style has changed so much, this is probably so bad) i needed to get rid of it. it's nothing spectacular, just a small tribute to one of the most under-appreciated pairings with a touch of warmth and kindness and winter and blushes. and who wouldn't love a good hot drink from a devastatingly handsome barista like mingyu?
> 
> it's different from my usual gyuhao but i'm trying to branch out (even if gyuhao are my og, number one pair Mwah), and i have a super long soonwoo coming out soon-ish, alongside me trying to finish my seoksoon. GAH so much to not anticipate from me. 
> 
> but thank you so much for reading whatever this badly-written, badly-ended fic is! i hope u have a fab day!
> 
> ♡ [@magzineho](http://twitter.com/magzineho)


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